


What If This Storm Ends?

by LostToCharming (dream_vs_nightmare)



Series: Strawberry Swing 'verse [3]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: AU, F/M, Gremma, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2018-03-30 04:13:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3922453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dream_vs_nightmare/pseuds/LostToCharming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something doesn't feel right when Emma wakes up alone the morning after Graham proposes. He leaves a note in their dresser drawer that leads her deep into the woods, the circle of his arms, and an unforgiving accident. Emma/Graham AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What If This Storm Ends?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [arianakristine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/arianakristine/gifts).



> Or, the original "What If This Storm Ends?" where a one-handed pirate with a drinking problem thoroughly ruins my OTP.

_What if this storm ends, and I don't see you as you are now, ever again?_

There were no words for the way he moved against her in his sleep. His hands sought her own even in his dreams and his lips moved with words she could never quite make out. Emma didn't sleep on nights like these, nights where the noise of the storm was the only thing loud enough to compete with the noise of her thoughts.

Looking at him, studying him, was the only real way she could ever manage to calm down. A flash of lightning lit up the line of his jaw and the set of his lips, paled the warm brown tones of his hair and the stubble around his chin.

_The perfect halo of cold hair and lightning set you off against the planet’s last dance._

She murmured a goodnight against his forehead, and he whispered his own against the bare skin of her left shoulder.

* * *

 

Emma woke to the steady sound of rain falling against the windows. She rolled over on her side, reaching for Graham's shoulder even though she still felt half-asleep. His warmth beside her was fast-becoming the only constant in her life, and it was a constant she was loathe to go without. But her fingers were met with empty air when she reached out into the darkness where his body should’ve been.

That wasn't right. Emma knew both of them had some lone-wolf tendencies to work out, but they always crawled into bed together, always buried themselves under the covers and against each other's skin to ward off the chill of the autumn air.

So where was he?

Emma opened her eyes. She couldn't make out his outline on the other side of the bed, and she couldn't see the shadow of his body in the dark like this.

A funny feeling twisted her stomach into a knot when she called out to the dark. He didn't answer. She could hear the beat of her heart in her ears and the static from the tv in the living room - but when she crawled out of bed and threw on a t-shirt to go investigate, his sleeping figure wasn't curled up on the couch. Worry stirred in her chest. She turned towards the door - it was unlocked, and open a crack like he'd forgotten to shut it. Maybe something had happened at the station. Maybe he'd had to go back on an emergency call.

His boots were missing from their spot by the door, and his jacket - the dark one with the collar as red as blood - was gone from its place over the reclining chair. That worried her. He would've woken her up if there'd been an emergency. He would've told her if he was going on a walk. Something was going on.

She moved towards the phone in the kitchen, dialing the number for her parents' apartment before her mind could catch up with what her fingers were doing. They shook as the phone rang and rang. _Come on. Pick up. Pick up._

"Emma?" Her father's groggy voice greeted her after the fourth ring.

"Dad? I need your help." She gripped the counter near the sink for support - she felt dizzy, nauseous, like she would fall over if she didn't hold onto something.

"Honey, what is it? Do you need me to come over?" She could hear the panic in her father's voice - it mirrored her own when she said,

"I - I don't know. Graham's gone. I don't know where he went but I don't have a good feeling about it." She tried to swallow her fear when she said, "I think…I think something happened to him", but she could hear her voice cracking as the fear finally set in.

"Okay. Okay, okay, okay. Your mother and I are coming over, alright?" She could hear rustling in the background, like he was throwing on a jacket, or maybe a pair of jeans. "Don't worry, Emma. We'll sort this out."

"Can you…can you stay on the phone with me?" She hated herself for how small and soft her voice had become.

"Of course, sweetheart. Here, I'll pass the phone over to your mother." More rustling as her father probably woke her mother up. She could hear them murmuring quietly for a moment or two before her mother's voice filled the phone.

"Emma? Emma, I know you're scared," Mary-Margaret took a deep breath before she said, "And I know you don't want to feel like you're losing him again. But I promise you we'll find him. We'll find him, okay?"

"Okay." Emma's voice broke on the word and she had to put the phone down for a minute to steady herself. She wouldn't cry - she wouldn't cry until she was buried in Graham's hug and the smell of the woods on his skin. She picked the cordless back up when she felt more in-control of her breathing and said, "I think we should search the woods first."

"Whatever you want, honey," Her mother said gently. She thought her parents must've been halfway to her house already - she'd heard a car door slam shut only minutes before. Her eyes flickered to the window over the sink, combing the dark outline of the trees for any sign of life. She thought she saw a flash of something moving in the brush beyond her backyard when a streak of lightning tore through the sky.

"I think - I think I need to go alone."

Emma thought she could hear her father murmuring, "that's my girl" even as her mother asked if she was sure.

"I'm sure. I'll take a flashlight and some matches. Maybe my gun." She looked back to the woods when she said it - she thought she could see something moving between the trees again. "Definitely my gun."

"We'll be waiting for you when you get back."

Emma tried to swallow around the fear in her throat when she said, "But what if I don't come back?"

Her parents' voices echoed over the line when they said, in perfect unison, "Then we'll find you. We will always find you."

"I swear, if I hear you guys say that damned line one more time..."

The last thing Emma heard before she returned the cordless to its cradle was the sound of her parents’ laughter. She tried to hold onto the sound of it as she moved to the bedroom in the dark. She could feel her pulse thrumming through her ears when she buried her hands underneath some of Graham's old shirts for her gun. A woodsy smell lingered in the air as Emma moved his clothes around - they smelled like cinnamon and smoke and something so ineffably Graham, it almost made her weak in the knees. But she wouldn't cry, she thought as she brought her gun out of the drawer. She set it on top of the dresser, safety still on, as she tugged on yesterday's jeans and laced her boots up to her knees. Something caught her eye when she moved to close the drawer - something that looked a lot like a letter. 

She grabbed at it with trembling fingers and moved to sit on the bed to read it. His side of the bed still smelled like him - she had to resist the urge to curl up in the shadow of where he slept and not move again for days.

But Emma knew she couldn't do that. If he was really in trouble - and the note in her hands made her feel like he was - then she had to look for him. She had to find him. She was like her parents in that way - where they would always find each other, she would always find Graham.

Emma unfolded the note in her hands and scanned it as fast as she could as another streak of lightning ripped across the sky.

_My dearest Emma,_

_I found the wolf again. He led me to a place deep in the woods - a place I couldn't tell you how to find even if I tried. But it's beautiful, Emma. Come find it. Come find me._

_Yours,_

_Graham_

Emma's hands were shaking by the time she finished reading. She had a feeling this wasn't just a game of hide and seek. This was something so much bigger - and so much darker - than that. She grabbed her gun off the dresser and secured it to the holster she kept on her belt loop. She left their bedroom behind to go look for a flashlight under the kitchen sink, burying Graham's note in her pocket as she did. Flashlight found, she went to the fridge to go grab the bottle of water she'd promised her mom she'd take with her.

Once Emma had everything she needed, she made her way to the front door. She had a sinking feeling in her stomach that once she closed the door behind her, everything would change. She just hoped it wasn't the way she thought. She took a deep breath to steel herself against the thought of that - of coming back alone - and swung the door open wide in front of her. The early morning air cut through her jacket as she moved to lock the door behind her. After the third time of trying, she threw her shaking hands back down at her sides and decided to leave the key under the mat so her parents could still get inside. 

She zipped her jacket up more fully as she walked across the porch and down the front steps. Something in her heart stirred at the sight of the porch swing rocking back and forth in the wind. Graham had proposed to her there just the night before. Even with last night's champagne still humming through her bloodstream, she could still remember the way he'd smiled as wide as the sky when she'd opened her birthday presents, could still remember the way his kiss warmed her all the way down to her toes when she'd said of course, she’d marry him.

Em thought of the promise in his kiss as she passed the strawberries growing on the side of the house, still thought of it as a chill bit through her jacket when she crossed the backyard. The woods loomed tall and wide in front of her, looking every bit as great as terrible as the forest in Henry's book. _Henry._ There was a moment where Emma wanted him to be with her more than anything, but the moment disappeared just as soon as it came when she heard a tree branch snap somewhere in front of her.

Jerking her head in the direction of the noise, she tried to calm the rapid pulse of her heart in her chest by moving the glow of her flashlight over the forest floor. The rain was coming down in sheets at this point, and the cold cut right through her.

"Hello?" She felt a little stupid calling out into the dark, felt like the girl in the movie who always died first.

"Emma."

She thought she heard her name in the whisper of the trees and the snap of another branch. It was enough to make her shiver as she moved deeper into the woods.

"Graham? Where are you?" Emma thought she could hear his boots splash in a puddle somewhere in front of her, swore she could hear his laugh echo across the river that ran parallel to where she stood.

She followed the sound of his footsteps as they led her deeper into the woods, half-wondering if it was really him at all. He'd never told her where he was, and he'd never really said if it was even him. It should've worried her a little. It should've worried her a lot. She thought she'd run out of fear almost an hour ago when she'd woken up without him.

But she was so, so wrong.

A funny feeling twisted her stomach into a knot again as she neared the river. The rain was coming down at an angle now, finding its way into her jacket and down her shirt where the zipper had caught. She tried to ignore how it stung her skin as it trickled down her shirt, how it left her knuckles white and frozen, but she was so cold it was getting hard to concentrate.

Emma thought she heard someone saying her name again. They were closer to the water than she was, and she thought she saw a flash of their jacket through the tree line.

"Graham? I didn't really think an early morning hike was part of the plan when you wanted me to marry you." She made her way down the riverbank slowly, not wanting to slip in the mud. It looked like it'd mingled with something else in the rain - something that looked a hell of a lot like blood.

She tried not to think about it when she said, "Maybe we could go on a walk with my parents when the storm stops, okay?”

"That sounds like a plan," came a voice a ways behind her. Emma turned towards it, gasping when she realized it was Graham. Just for a minute, the silver-forked sky lit him up like a star, like the beacon of a lighthouse in the dark. She could see every crease in his jacket, every curl of his hair, every raindrop in his eyelashes.

_The perfect halo of cold hair and lightning set you off against the planet’s last dance._

Graham was hanging back under the trees, where it was harder for the wind to cut through his clothes. Emma met him there, shivering a little as she threw her arms around his neck. He pulled her into a kiss that made her shiver even more, but more from the warmth of him against her than the sheets of rain falling around them.

She pulled back to catch her breath, pressing his forehead against his before she said, "Graham! Jesus, I've been looking all over for you. Are you okay?" She ran her hands from his neck to the sides of his face, pulling away a little to look him over.

He had a cut that ran just above the curve of his eyebrow, and she thought she saw a deep gash that ran across the back of his hand when he moved it over hers.

"I'm okay, Emma," Graham murmured as he brought her in for a hug. Her knees went weak when he brought his lips to her ear to whisper, "I love you. I love you more than life itself, but you have to run now, okay? Get your parents, get Henry, and then get as far away from this place as you can."

"Graham?" She froze in his arms – he was holding her too tight, like he really was afraid for her. "What's going on? I don't get it. I thought you said you wanted me to meet you here."

He had tears in his eyes when he looked into her own. "I had to, Emma. I had to, or he said he was going to kill you."

 _Kill you_ echoed in her ears for a moment after Graham said it.

"He? Who's he?" Emma asked, face scrunching up in confusion.

"Captain Hook," Graham whispered against her lips. "You have to go, Emma. Now that I've said his name, he'll come looking for you."

"Wait, what? You're not making any sense. Why would Hook come here? Isn't he supposed to be in Neverland with Peter Pan and those British kids?" She asked with a laugh, looping her arms around his neck and weaving her hands through his hair.

Graham cupped her face in his hands to stop her from trying to kiss him. "Emma, _don't_." Lightning lit up the lines of his face - his eyes were dark and wild, mouth trembling like he was trying hard not to cry. "If you move any closer to me, it'll trigger the trap."

"I don't believe you," She said as she moved deeper into the circle of his arms, pushing his back against a tree. "I think you made this whole thing up just to spend time with me."

"I do want to spend time with you. But not out here, not like this!"

The look that flickered in his eyes was the same one he’d worn at the bar a year ago, when he’d begged her to just talk to him, to believe him. It was enough to twist her stomach again. "You’re not kidding, are you?"

Graham shook his head. "I wish I was."

"I'm not going to leave you, okay?" His laugh went right to her bones when he threw his head back and said that he wished she would.

"What's gotten into you lately?" She whispered, backing away from his arms like she'd been stricken.

A tree branch snapped under her feet. He winced, murmuring, “I told you you should've ran" as the ropes of a trap tangled around her legs and over her head.

They jerked her away from the ground and up into the air almost violently. "Christ, what is this?"

"That, my dear," A man's deep voice called out from the dark. "Would be a trap. And it seems that you've just fallen right into it."

Something about the way he spoke made her shiver. She knew that voice.

"It's just too bad your dear fiancée couldn't save you while he had the chance. But he gave a damn good show, didn't he?"

Emma thought she saw the curve of a hook cut through the gloom of the forest, glinting like a knife does in shadow. Her breath caught in her throat as the man it belonged to stepped out from behind a tree, moving like a shadow himself as he walked towards Graham.

"If you lay a finger on him, so help me, I'll-"

"You'll what?" The man stalking around Graham threw his head back in a laugh that turned her stomach. "Kill me? Love, I'm afraid you can't do anything from up there."

Emma felt his dark eyes sweeping over her from his spot somewhere below her. "But I can see why your love here wanted to say his last farewells."

The way his eyes lingered on the V of her chest made her shudder in disgust. But it was nothing compared to what she felt when he turned his gaze on Graham, grazing his hook under the sheriff’s chin and moving it down the skin of his throat deep enough to draw blood. Hook withdrew the hook only to jab it through the sleeve of Graham's jacket, ensuring that he'd stay pinned to the tree he stood against.

"Your true love’s quite the romantic," Hook smiled up at her as he kept pacing. "He begged me not to bring you into this, but I gave him that lovely little scar over his eyebrow to bring him back to his senses and write that letter for me. I can be rather crafty when I feel like it, and I thought it was a good day to do some letter writing. And then I thought, "Why stop there? Why not kidnap her, too?”’

"Does this story have a point? Because I'm getting really tired of hearing your voice," Emma said as she moved to lean her head back against the ropes. She'd been forced into a sitting position when the trap dragged her body upwards and off the ground, but she found that she couldn't keep quiet for long when some creep decided to hurt her fiancée. “Let Graham go.”

"And what ever makes you think I’ll do that, love?”

“Because, I’ve got this,” Her hand went to her gun in its holster, but found only empty air where the weapon should've been.

"Ah, you mean this lovely little thing. Quite pretty, isn't it?" Hook asked as he brought her pistol out of his trench coat.

He aimed it at Graham with a flourish, smirking a bit as he moved the barrel to the side of her fiancée’s head. "I wonder how it'll look after I'm done blowing his brains out."

Even the rolling thunder over their heads couldn’t compare to the shrill sound of Emma's scream echoing off the water as he pulled the trigger.

_What if this storm ends and I don’t see you as you are now, ever again?_

**Author's Note:**

> Written just after the fluffly "Strawberry Swing", I think this proves that I'm incapable of writing two feel-good fics in a row. I'm sorry.
> 
> (I'm also willing to fill prompts for the 'verse and write y'guys some fix-it pieces.)


End file.
